It began, as so many things do in business, with a spreadsheet. Asher Rapkin, co-founder and CEO of California-based independent watch retailer Collective Horology, was reconciling his company’s import ledgers last month. The numbers weren’t adding up in the way he’d hoped. A line item kept reappearing, a financial friction that had, over several years, siphoned off more capital than he cared to tally. It was the tariff. Again. The latest tranche, filed under Section 301 of the Trade Act and effective July 24, meant his upcoming shipment of precision timepieces—valued around $69,000—would be dinged for an extra $8,280 at the border. For a boutique firm specializing in artisan watch brands, that’s not an accounting footnote. It’s a direct hit to already slim margins.
Rapkin closed his laptop. He decided he was done paying. On July 24, Collective Horology LLC, alongside New York spice importer Burlap & Barrel, filed a lawsuit in the United States Court of International Trade. The defendants read like a roster of Washington power: former President Donald Trump, U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer, and several departments of the executive branch. The allegation is stark. The plaintiffs claim the administration’s tariffs, specifically those levied under Section 301, are “unlawful,” enacted without the required congressional approval, and are actively harming American small businesses. This isn’t just a gripe from an aggrieved retailer. It’s the most aggressive legal counterpunch yet from a watch industry that feels it has been financially kneecapped by policy.
“We were able to weather that, but that’s not the kind of thing I want to be lucky about,” Rapkin told me in a conversation that veered from his passion for horology to his frustration with trade law. “I should not have to fight this battle.” His company, founded in 2018, sells niche brands like Armin Strom and Ming. To date, Collective has paid over $160,000 in various Trump-era duties. Despite a landmark Supreme Court ruling in February that found the initial round of tariffs exceeded presidential authority, the levies have persisted under alternative legal justifications, and refunds have not materialized. The new Section 301 duties, which target goods over alleged forced labor concerns, now sweep in Switzerland—a nation with some of Europe’s highest wages and the epicenter of high-end watchmaking. The legal incongruity is, for plaintiffs, the core of the argument.
The lawsuit, backed by the libertarian-leaning Liberty Justice Center, posits a fundamental question about executive power. Does the Trade Act grant the president a carte blanche to impose tariffs for virtually any reason, or are there constitutional guardrails? The Liberty Justice Center is no stranger to this fight; it led the prior challenge that resulted in the Supreme Court’s rebuke. Their presence signals this is less about a single watch shipment and more about a principle. “For a small American retailer importing highly specialized products… an additional duty of 10 or 12.5 percent has an immediate and substantial impact,” the filing states. Rapkin estimates the tied-up capital has cost his firm access to “hundreds of thousands of dollars” for inventory and growth.
Economically, the tariff’s logic feels misplaced when applied to luxury horology. These tools are typically deployed to shield domestic industries from unfair foreign competition, like subsidized steel or cheap electronics. But the U.S. has no scale production of mechanical watch movements. The expertise and infrastructure are concentrated in Switzerland, Japan, and China. A tariff on a Swiss watch doesn’t protect an American watchmaker; there essentially aren’t any. It simply acts as a tax on American retailers and consumers, exacerbating other industry headwinds like a strong Swiss franc and record-high precious metals prices. Major brands have passed costs to consumers while small retailers like Collective absorb the blow, their margins squeezed between immutable supplier costs and price-sensitive customers.
The human dimension is what often gets lost in trade policy debates. Rapkin’s sentiment echoes in small business corridors across the country. “This is not a thing in my mind that I should be using my time and effort and energy on,” he said. “I would far prefer to be talking about the watchmakers that I believe in and the art form that I’ve invested my life in, not the finer points of trade law.” This distraction—the administrative drag and legal cost of combating government policy—represents a hidden tax on entrepreneurship. Capital that should fund innovation and marketing is diverted to legal fees and duty payments.
| Impact of Tariffs | Details |
|---|---|
| Financial Burden | Extra duties leading to significant costs for small businesses |
| Legal Challenges | Lawsuits filed against government officials and departments |
| Industry Effects | Squeeze on margins for retailers due to high costs |
| Imported Goods | Luxury imports being taxed without domestic alternatives |
| Capital Loss | Tied-up funds affecting growth and inventory |
| Entrepreneurial Impact | Distraction from core business activities |
The case will wend its way through the U.S. Court of International Trade in the coming months, one of several ongoing challenges to the tariff regime. The defendants have yet to formally respond. No allegations have been proven in court. But the lawsuit underscores a persistent tension in global trade: the collision between broad executive authority and the ground-level reality for businesses operating in an interconnected world. For Asher Rapkin, it’s a fight he didn’t want but now feels compelled to see through. It’s no longer just about a line item on a spreadsheet. It’s about who gets to write the rules and whether a small company in Ventura has a voice in the process. The outcome will tell us a lot about the balance of power in American trade—and the price of principle for a small business clinging to its niche.
